The Warriors of Atopia: The Sequel to the Gates of Atopia

By Colin Litten-Brown

The Nemetonum Society faces an even greater threat than before and once again the secret of the Gwydion Stones is challenged by foes that strive to possess their awesome power. From across the barrier of the inter-dimensional void the survivors of Atlantis strive to return to Earth while in England the remnants of Marcus Wolffs operation regroup and return to the attack.

In the midst of these new threats, Hannah Chappel-Jones discovers an even more incredible secret, one her family have kept for over a century that sheds light on the very origin of the stones themselves.

With assailants on all sides, the Society struggles to defend the stones against the most powerful threat they have ever faced. In their darkest hour of need, can they find help in the most unlikely of places and can they stand up to the Warriors of Atopia?

The Warriors of Atopia: the sequel to The Gates of Atopia.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jul 14, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456778217

Colin Litten-Brown

Colin Litten-Brown has misspent the last twenty-six years of his career developing household and personal care products. He has the following books published: The Gates of Atopia, Williams’ Wonder Wax, The Warriors of Atopia, The Legacy Conspiracy, and The Legend of the Hyper-Worm. The Cult of the Hyper-Worm is his latest work. He still develops household and personal care products mainly to keep the house tidy! Colin lives in Kent, England, with his wife, Jennie, and his three children, Mia, Josh, and Iona.

Book preview

Contents

PREFACE

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

THE GATES OF ATOPIA:

WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

THE GATES OF ATOPIA

WILLIAMS’ WONDER WAX

THE LEGACY CONSPIRACY

PREFACE

I have been asked where the ideas for my books come from and the best answer I can give is that it is like I am watching the film in my head and simply write down what I see. Even when I started writing The Gates of Atopia, the first novel I had published, I quickly gave up even attempting to write a synopsis. This is not to say that this technique is foolproof and I have more than one aborted project which I will possibly revisit at some future stage where I simply ran out of steam. When it works, however, it is a marvellous feeling as there are occasions when I am writing when even I do not know what is going to happen next until almost the point where my fingers are tapping at the keys.

Normally, however, I have spent plenty of time mulling ideas in my head for plots and twists so that when I get the time to write the next bit I have a fairly good idea where the story is heading. This does not, of course, mean that this is what I actually write and it is not unheard of for me to sit down with the whole next chapter mapped out in my mind only to write something completely different.

On rare occasions I add notes to the end of the manuscript with either ideas that I am very passionate about but that do not occur for several chapters or, more likely, essential plot threads that if I do not record I will totally forget and then write myself into a corner.

The Warriors of Atopia is typical of this method of working. Written in chunks I had the beginning pretty well sorted and the ending fairly well defined but as to the rest, well it was as much of a surprise to me as it will hopefully be to you!

Hopefully you will have already read The Gates of Atopia and will therefore be familiar with the story so far. If not, I have included a brief synopsis of this to get you up to speed with the tale but to be honest there are so many convoluted twists and turns you will probably benefit from starting at the beginning for this to make sense.

The Warriors of Atopia is the second part in what is intended to be, initially at least, a trilogy but with a twist, but that is something I will explain in a future book. It picks up chronologically where The Gates of Atopia left off and in some ways the two books can be read as one.

I do hope you enjoy it, especially as there is more to come in the saga so watch this space.

Colin Litten-Brown – March 2011

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This book is dedicated to my loyal proof-readers (you know who you are) for pointing out the error of my ways or at least the continuity errors of my books! As always, for her continuing faith, love and support, it is for Jennie.

THE GATES OF ATOPIA:

WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE

In The Gates of Atopia the first book of the Atopia trilogy, the story starts with the death of a king. Betrayed by his power-hungry son Medraut, Ambrosius Aurelius is betrayed and murdered at the battle of Camlann. Medraut is hungry for power but nothing as mundane as the crown. He has become aware of the existence of the Gwydion Stones, the source of an immeasurable power that the Druidae, led by Myrddin, have for so many years hidden from mankind, realising the terrible consequences of their use.

Observing the massacre, Myrddin realises he is all that stands between Medraut and the holocaust that he will unleash so, in desperation, he puts aside his grief to flee south to where he can orchestrate one final act of hope. Wielding knowledge from the ancient race from whom the Druidae originated, Myrddin sends word to all of his kind to raise the stones from the sacred groves in which they are secreted and transport them with all haste to the seclusion of the moors of Devon.

With the forces of Medraut hot on his heels, Myrddin sets a trap. Unbeknown to Medraut, ancient lore tells of the perils of gathering the stones of power together, the reason indeed that the Druidae had scattered them in the first place. Myrddin’s plan is to repeat the disaster that had befallen his ancestors who, in their greed, had horded the stones, only to rend a portal through to the world of demons where they had disappeared in an almighty and devastating event that had erased their entire civilization from the world.

Powerful with physical might but lacking in knowledge, Medraut walked into the trap, springing it with the very stones that he wielded. As he entered the great hall of the Druidae the stones reached critical mass and, with the world collapsing around them, Myrddin, Medraut and all with them vanished.

Those few Druidae that had been sent away, accompanied by the last knight of the old king, had sworn to ensure that the secret of the few remaining stones that could not be collected in time would be buried forever. Thus was the Nemetonæum Society born, it’s mission to ensure that history recorded no memory of the true events of Camlann or even the merest legend of the stones of power.

For the next fifteen hundred years they succeeded.

At the dawn of the twenty-first century, quantum physics reached the stage where the most fundamental mysteries of the universe were beginning to be solved. For a millennia and a half, the descendents of Medraut had harboured their knowledge, seeking in vain for the stones they felt were theirs by right but now science gave them the tools to understand exactly what it was they sought.

Recognising the stones for what they were, an exotic form of matter, the forces of evil led by Marcus Wolff began their endeavour to locate the stones by science where all other routes had failed.

Using the talents of a fresh young scientist, Josh Taylor, they manage to locate a tiny fragment of one of the stones, not enough to wield the true power the stones promised but enough for the scientific research required to locate the secret hiding places of the few stones still know to exist.

As fate would have it, the research centre they employ is under the control of a leading member of the modern-day Nemetonæum society, Sir Robert Chappel-Jones and he contrives to have his daughter, Hannah, installed on the research team beside Dr Taylor as a mole to discover just how much information their adversaries know and what their plans are.

Hannah quickly ascertains that the research team know a great deal about what they refer to as zero matter and assumes, through a series of misunderstandings, that Josh Taylor is in with Marcus Wolff rather than the innocent bystander that he actually is.

As she feeds her initial reports back to her father, he realises that the society’s worst fears have been realised and that the secret of the stones has been compromised. He summons the elders of the society, prominent figures from the world of science and politics, to decide what action should be taken.

Marcus Wolff’s intention is clear. Under the guise of creating a system for detecting zero matter in the wider galaxy he is in fact devising a triangulation system for locating the stones on Earth. Realising the immanency of the threat, Sir Robert decides to accelerate the initiation of his daughter into the society, bringing her totally within the fold of their world and revealing to her the true nature of the secret they defend.

The society decide not to move against Marcus Wolff immediately but to take him down at the point where his apparatus was nearing completion, to catch him and all of his minions in one go, entrapping them through legitimate means by exposing the fraud and other crimes through which they have gathered their resources, conscious that above all the protection of their secret is paramount.

Marcus catches wind that there are moves being constructed against him and accelerates his plans. Still unaware of the true nature of the detection system he is devising, the society sit back and wait while Marcus puts his plan into operation, activating the newly-completed detector grid early.

Returning to the lab out of hours, Josh Taylor discovers the truth and realises that the equipment he has been developing has been put to a quite different use than the one intended. Grabbing key components and the data from the scan he flees, alerting his colleague Matt McBride who was manning one of the remote stations in Scotland.

Marcus Wolff realises that Josh has discovered their plans and begins the process of covering his tracks through whatever means necessary including the ruthless murder of one of the research team in his pay and the burning of Josh Taylor’s laboratory.

Matt returns to the remote station just before the forces that Wolff has sent do destroy the place and escapes just in time only to fall into the hands of the Nemetonæum society who, at this time, do not know the role he has played in events.

Josh contacts Hannah and she realises at last that he is on her side. Discovering what Wolff had been undertaking, they examine the results of the triangulated scan of the United Kingdom and discover a huge response over one of the moors of Devon. Without hesitation, Josh decides to investigate and Hannah, unsure how else to react goes with him while she tries to contact her father.

The society members are totally wrapped up in the aftermath of Marcus Wolff’s actions and are desperately trying to discover his whereabouts. Meanwhile, Josh and Hannah follow their lead to a remote part of Bodmin Moor, using a makeshift detector they had constructed from the equipment salvaged from the lab to guide them.

Even as they approach the epicentre of the mysteriously large response, they begin to experience a strange warping of space and, before they can escape, the world around them folds in upon itself and they vanish from normal space.

It is only as they are coming to terms with what has happened that Sir Robert realises that his daughter and Josh Taylor have disappeared.

Interrogating Matt McBride, the society realise that he is not working for Marcus Wolff and gradually begin to piece together what had happened, Peter Adams, Sir Robert’s head of security, follows a tenuous lead that tracks Marcus back to York.

Josh and Hannah awake to find themselves in a strange world, a realm where the laws of physics do not work entirely as they would expect and where the land folds up and around itself to form an enclosed bubble a few kilometres in diameter. Within this, they discover Myrddin and a ragged band of Druidae and warriors who have apparently lived for several months in total hardship; surviving as well as they can in the harsh environment. Their arrival also triggers the arrival of a huge flying beast that the warriors slay.

They also discover Orla Adams, daughter of Peter Adams and the sole survivor of an archaeological team the society had sent to investigate the site at Bodmin Moor. Like Hannah and Josh she had been sucked into the anomaly. Josh quickly realises that the rate of time flows differently within the anomaly than the outside world but also that the arrival of Orla and subsequently the two of them had at each point changed the rate of temporal flow, leading him to the conclusion that the anomaly was unstable.

Orla has managed to communicate with Myrddin and through her they exchange information so that Josh can formulate a theory of the inter-dimensional vesicle in which they find themselves, not to mention the desperation of their situation.

Peter Adams leads a raid on the address in York where Marcus and his people are supposed to be hiding but it goes badly wrong and the mission fails.

Turning to science, Sir Robert authorises the recovery of one of the stones so that Matt McBride can replicate the detector network and allow the society to use Wolff’s own technology against him. As they start the initial tests, however, Peter Adams is arrested by the police, charged with the murders that Marcus had ordered. He gives the police the slip, going underground but not before he allegedly steals the sum total of the societies’ information from Sir Robert’s safe on a portable hard drive.

Josh and Hannah realise their situation is impossible. A further disruption of the vesicle had released another beast from the other world to which the inter-dimensional rift was connected and all attempts they had made to escape had failed. Just as they thought they were lost, they realised that one of their mobile phones had direct line-of-sight contact with the entrance to the vesicle and a weak but definite signal. Even as the last vestiges of power in the battery exhausted, Josh sent a desperate plea for help to Matt, realising as he did that their only salvation was for more zero matter to be thrown into the rift, collapsing it for good or evil.

Sir Robert discovers that the evidence planted on Peter Adams was faked by the society to get him noticed by Marcus Wolff. The plan works and Peter is captured even though Wolff realises it is a trap. Matt receives the text from Josh and understands its significance. A mission is sent to throw more zero matter into the breach but it is not enough. Within the vesicle, the disruption caused releases yet more monsters but also a strange warrior dressed in white armour. This stranger saves Orla and gives her a medallion before disappearing again.

In the normal world, Matt is captured by Marcus Wolff. Thinking to use Peter and Matt for his own designs, he is fooled into believing that the huge response in Bodmin Moor relates to a cache of stones which he thus makes his primary target.

After the latest disruption, Josh realises that the vesicle is so unstable now it is nearing the point of collapse and that if they do not escape soon they will perish along with it.

Sir Robert and the other members of the society are desperate; the capture of Matt McBride not being part of their plan but when Marcus confronts Sir Robert directly, the old Nemetonæum understands what is going on and plays along with the improvised plan. Marcus demands that Sir Robert provides him access to the stronghold he believes to be in Bodmin Moor in exchange for his prisoners.

At the prescribed time, Sir Robert leads Marcus out into the moor towards where he now knows lies the portal to the unstable inter-dimensional phenomenon while in the background the other members of the society prepare a military trap for Marcus’ forces.

In the dramatic climax to the story, Marcus tries to wield his Gwydion Stone but like his ill-fated ancestor he is sucked into the vesicle. As the military move in to deal with his men, Marcus’ passage through the vesicle results in its total collapse, throwing Hannah, Josh and Myrddin back into the real world but not before Josh has an encounter with a strange being that lives in the void between worlds.

The vesicle collapses, the breach between the worlds is sealed and the battle is over.

It is only some time later, in the aftermath, when they are all sitting around and taking stock of what had befallen them all that Orla reveals the medallion that she had been given by the White Warrior. Myrddin recognises it immediately as the symbol of the people from whom he had descended, the people who themselves had been lost in their folly and greed in the fabled cataclysm caused by their hoarding of the stones.

Orla also recognises it and announces to the assembled group its significance, its symbolism as the emblem of the ancient and legendary city of Atlantis.

That was yesterday…..

PROLOGUE

The white warrior stood and stared around defensively. Fortunately his weapon had reappeared close to where he had emerged and he had grabbed it as he had jumped to his feet. The eruption had scared away anything that might have been lurking nearby. Satisfied that there was no immediate danger, he dusted himself off, brushing as much of the grime as he could from his armour.

He turned and stared at the blasted landscape all around him, a strange jumble of rocks and withered vegetation. Beyond, the plant life was the more familiar blue, the sky reassuringly crimson.

Beyond all hope, he was back!

His ears keenly listening for danger, he carefully checked himself and his equipment, taking a careful inventory of what he still had. The memory of the inter-dimensional breach was still fresh and of the beautiful woman to whom he had given the token. He wondered whether she had also escaped, thrust back into her own reality at the other end of the collapsing vesicle.

It was a long way back to the city and, as he had not been expected to survive, there was no transport waiting for him. He peered up at the double suns, judging the time of day. There were still a few hours left before the brief night, time enough to reach shelter.

He finally stared down at the unconscious figure lying by his feet and gave it a prod. The figure groaned, evidently still alive.

The warrior swung his weapon down, pointing it at the figure as he slowly sat up.

Move and I kill you. He said blankly.

The figure mumbled something in a language he did not understand but recognised as the same language the girl had used. The man peered up at the warrior with obvious fear.

For a few moments, the warrior considered what to do next. If he took the man with him, he would probably slow him down and if he killed him here, the body would act as bait for the beasts that roamed this region. It was a tempting and logical course of action but he knew that the high priests would want to examine him and if they found out he had left him to die in the wastelands he would be as good as dead himself.

Impatiently, he stepped back and waggled the weapon, gesturing for the other figure to rise.

Marcus Wolff staggered to his feet, still disoriented but then dropped again as the sharp pain arced through his arm. Staring down, sweat beading on his forehead he saw by the angle at which it hung that it was clearly broken.

Snorting impatiently, the warrior ripped a thin strip of fabric edging from his tunic and tied it into a long loop, tossing it to Wolff.

Marcus picked it up hesitantly though its purpose was clear. Setting the gun out of reach, the warrior knelt beside Marcus and grabbed his broken limb, pulling it savagely to straighten and realign the bones.

Howling in agony, Marcus sat immobile, knowing that the arm had to be straightened or it would set badly.

Grabbing a thick branch, the warrior fashioned a rudimentary splint, tying Marcus’ arm to it to hold it steady before spraying a strange gel over the blackened skin under which the fracture lay. With that done, he looped the sling over Marcus’ head, feeding the arm carefully into it before standing up and resuming his threatening stance.

After a few moments, Marcus clambered to his feet and immediately stared up in panic at the double suns in the ruddy sky and then back to his captor. The warrior gestured with the gun and Marcus peered in the direction he was indicating. Far on the horizon he could see a line of hills. The vegetation was blue.

Where the hell am I? Panic rose in him. Was this hell? Was he dead or worse? He tried to unscramble his thoughts as he stumbled forward.

The going was tough, the terrain completely alien. From what Marcus could tell, the soil was composed of something akin to a huge blanket of sea-sponge from which the eerie blue flora sprouted.

Nothing was familiar, although some of the plants had structures that could be described as leaves and flowers they were mostly adorned with strange protrusions and nodules, the function of which he could not even begin to fathom. What was quickly obvious was that the plant life had some ability to move and used this in a hostile manner. After receiving several painful stings and slashes, he became far more wary of the vegetation.

The air was oxygen rich, which he could tell by the fact that his breathing had dropped to a noticeably slower rate. There was also an odd smell that he could not quite place, a tangy metallic taste on his tongue that was almost reminiscent of blood.

Dazed and confused as he was, Marcus could understand where it was that the strange warrior was heading for and the sense of urgency in his gestures. Wherever they were it was not a place to be out at night, so it seemed. The occasional howl or crash in the distance made it obvious that the plant-life was not the only thing that was dangerous in this world.

As they gradually approached the low ridge Marcus could see that it was pierced with a criss-cross network of cracks and gullies and it was towards one of these that the warrior was heading with the confidence of one familiar with the land.

Even though there still appeared to be plenty of light, the warrior insisted on stopping at a particular gulley and Marcus quickly saw why. It formed a small box canyon with a low cave at the far end. The only way to approach was between two narrow walls and the jagged rocks above were almost impossible to climb unaided. As positions went it was very defensible.

As they entered, the warrior became even tenser, scanning for any unwelcome visitors as they made their way between the rock faces.

The cave was evidently a well-frequented refuge. Fixed to the rear wall was a heavy metal cabinet, the surface pitted and scarred from where it had been frequently but unsuccessfully attacked.

Keeping a wary eye on the narrow passage behind them, the warrior pressed his thumb against a recessed panel. For a moment a blue light pulsed before there was a heavy clunk and the door lock released.

Marcus could not see from where the cabinet derived its power but what he could see was that it was partly filled with water bottles and food ration packs. The cave was obviously some kind of emergency shelter.

The warrior removed two water bottles and two ration packs, handing one of each roughly to Marcus.

With his right arm useless, Marcus was forced to wrestle the strange stopper from the bottle using his teeth, the warrior flatly refusing to help any further. It was only as he poured the slightly brackish-tasting water down his throat that he realised how thirsty he was and although the rations were almost tasteless he could tell as they hit his stomach that they were nourishing.

There were no other comforts in the cave so he propped himself against the cabinet, closing his eyes to get some sleep while the warrior stood guard. There was no way his captor was going to trust him with a weapon so it did not bother Marcus in the slightest that this meant he could sleep while the warrior could not.

Even before the light had faded, the first attack came.

The first of the twin suns rose through the haze of the deep crimson sky, chasing away the terrors of the brief night. From the shelter of the rocky outcrop, two figures emerged into a scene of carnage. The azure vegetation was blasted and scorched where it had not otherwise been trampled, dark liquid still oozing from the trunks of the larger plants. Hunched shapes lay in the undergrowth, reeking of gore and burning flesh, the small scurrying creatures of the wilderness already beginning to feast on the shattered carcases. Noises in the distance spoke of other beasts retreating from the light, skulking back to the dark places they inhabited by day.

Exhausted, the white warrior emerged from the narrow gorge and stared intently around. One of the beasts was still breathing slowly, drawing air in deep rasping gulps. Its wounds were fatal and the warrior could not spare the energy from his weapon to dispatch it. He could see that the nerve ganglion was pulped and that the creature posed no threat to them. That it would die a slow and painful death was of no concern to him. There would be many more to replace it that night if they did not leave.

The energy cell of his weapon was dangerously low. The fire fight had depleted much of its reserves. He would get twenty or so shots, possibly a few more but that would be all. It would not be enough to undertake a sustained defence as they had been forced to do during the night just past.

Turning, the warrior nodded to the other figure. Stumbling with exhaustion, despite the slightly lower gravity, Marcus Wolff emerged into the ruddy light. The warrior no longer needed to threaten him with the weapon, even half a day of marching through the treacherous landscape had made it all too clear to Wolff that his survival depended on his captor. He winced as he adjusted the sling supporting his broken arm. The hand was also damaged where the gauntlet containing the zero matter stone had been ripped from him.

The warrior barked the command that Marcus assumed meant that way, indicating a wide animal track through the undergrowth.

Thirst and hunger gnawed at them as they marched. The warrior’s meagre supplies had rapidly been consumed and he had taken only minimal rations from the cabinet in the refuge.

For some reason he was reluctant for them to drink from the ample streams or eat any of the vegetation they passed. Marcus took that to mean that both were in some way toxic and quickly decided to avoid experimentation himself. Certainly, the aromas assaulting his nose were triggering every subconscious avoidance instinct, even though the scents were unfamiliar and often not even unpleasant. Something permeated all of the life here that his body recognised as alien.

Not for the first time, Marcus turned his thoughts to his situation. With a sense of bitterness, he recalled the events of the days up to his appearance in this strange world. He knew he had been tricked but that the root cause of this deceit had been the blindness of his own arrogance. His limited knowledge of the fundamental nature of zero matter and the evidence of his own eyes led him to the conclusion that he had left his own reality and re-emerged in another world, whether in a different part of his own universe or in a totally parallel one, he did not know though that was largely irrelevant at this stage.

At the very least, this world obeyed the same general laws of physics as his own did. The atoms of his body had not fallen apart, gravity seemed to operate as normal, though noticeably lower than on Earth which gave him a certain spring in his step and went some way to off-setting his fatigue. Even the atmosphere was tolerably breathable; the level of oxygen, while high, was sufficiently close to that he was used to for him to breathe somewhat normally.

The double star in the sky was distant but the combination of red giant and white dwarf gave a hot but again bearable temperature by day, cold but above freezing by night. He had wondered about the warrior’s logic of travelling by day until he had experienced the many nocturnal terrors that stalked the desolate land.

His curiosity fell back to his captor, clearly as human as he was and clearly restricted by the same limitations. That the warrior could not partake of the water or abundant food sources they passed was, he realised, important but how he could not say. For sure he felt that the answer to that question would hold the key to his own situation. The man’s attire and equipment spoke of a strange combination of classical civilization and advanced technology, a combination that did not exist on Earth as he knew it. The decoration was reminiscent of a Mediterranean culture, something akin to Greek or Roman. The warrior’s skin was a dark olive colour, his body lean and muscular, used to a physical, outdoor existence. Behind the deep blue eyes there glowed a keen intelligence and malevolence that echoed Marcus’ own nature.

Wolff was mostly drawn to the strange gadgets the man wore, technology that seemed to be integrated into the very fabric of his armour. The suit itself was lightweight and fabricated from some kind of reinforced polymer but every now and then, the warrior would touch portions of it, sometimes an arm-protector, sometimes on his chest plate. Although there were no visible controls, the response would be the activation of a glowing section, the emergence of a tiny device or any one of a hundred other features that indicated an incredibly sophisticated system. Apart from the weapon and the belt-pouches of basic supplies, the warrior carried no encumbrance. Marcus knew he would have to learn more about the technology which was far in advance of anything he had seen on Earth.

Despite being constructed for combat, the armour was also highly decorated, embellished with fine detail and, until recently, edged with fine fabrics. It spoke of high-status and symbolism as well as functionality.

They stumbled on up the gentle rise, the warrior alert at all times despite the fatigue he also must have been feeling. The day creatures, while nowhere near as numerous as the nocturnal beasts, were far more dangerous and cunning. Marcus recalled with a shudder the enormous spider-like behemoth that had lain camouflaged near the trail. It had only been the keen eyes and swift reflexes of his captor that had saved them both but even then it had been by a whisker. The sight of the multiple eyes and gaping maw would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.

Something rustled in the undergrowth nearby and they both froze, Wolff’s senses already sharpening to the environment. There was hardly a breath of wind and everything was still and silent. Peering intently, the warrior scanned the bushes, sniffing gently at the scents emanating from the dark blue shrubs. Satisfied that whatever it was posed no immediate threat, he nodded for them to continue.

Marcus’ body was so drenched in adrenaline, he felt dizzy and light-headed. He wished that he could understand the warrior’s language enough to find out what their destination was and how long it would take them to reach it. The lack of water was beginning to become a serious matter and he knew another day’s march would be the finish of him.

They crested the hill carefully, crouching low and keeping as quiet as possible. Off in the distance to the right, a herd of enormous creatures that looked like massive walking fennel bulbs waddled and swayed. Long, thin tentacles swayed from the two open orifices at the top of their bloated brown bodies, ripping foliage from a copse of what could only be described as trees given their size but looked more like enormous broccoli florets. As they grazed, the creatures gave out a shrill whistling noise that hurt Wolff’s ears.

Giving the herd a wide berth, they moved to the edge of a wide, silent clearing some minutes walk away. As he had done a hundred times over the last few hours, the warrior tapped on the armour covering his left forearm. The same sequence of glowing patches appeared in the response that had always accompanied his movements. For a moment, he peered at his arm, examining the array of lights in disgust. Then, a new light appeared, an orange glow in the centre of the ring of blue. His face lit up with excitement and he tapped a few more hidden controls. The orange light began to pulse steadily and he stared up into the sky.

Without warning, an ear-shattering cry bellowed from just behind them and a huge shape reared up. Something whipped out, slapping the warrior aside as a claw the size of a small car clamped around Marcus’ chest. He felt a rib snap as the creature crushed down, gripping him tightly and hauling him sharply off his feet. The air was squeezed from his lungs and he strained to turn his head to get a look at his fate.

The monster was still mostly buried in the ground from which it had erupted, its single long gripping appendage curling around as it brought its prey towards the gaping, dirt-encrusted maw. Hot, acrid breath blasted outwards as the creature lurched forwards, repositioning itself as it strained towards its meal. The sightless head was ringed with small holes that whistled as it sniffed him. Something made it pause, an odour it had not expected perhaps. Whatever it was saved Marcus’ life. The warrior’s first few shots severed the pincer arm, the rest were directed into the creature’s mouth, blasting huge chunks of blackened flesh away until its screaming and writhing subsided and it died, slumping back into its tunnel with a loud crash. Within seconds, the ground around the hole was writhing with scavenging creatures.

His weapon exhausted, the warrior gripped Marcus by the shoulder, spinning him around and pointing urgently away from the hole. Realising that they were now essentially defenceless, Marcus complied without hesitation. Behind them, larger creatures could be heard descending on the bloody feast, screeching at each other as they fought over the pickings. The warrior kept them in the open and near the crest of the hill, watching intently for attack but also scanning the sky. By the way he stared upwards Marcus guessed he was anticipating friends rather than foe. His attention was drawn to the warrior’s arm where the orange light was still flashing, faster than before.

Marcus nearly ran into the back of the warrior as he stopped abruptly, his attention fixed on a point near the horizon. Following the warrior’s gaze, Marcus peered towards the point in the sky, straining to see what it was the warrior was searching for. Something howled behind them and they both whirled around, Far down the slope, a large creature had evidently spotted them and was rapidly climbing the hill, its flicking black tongue whipping out as it tasted the air. Marcus turned to run but the warrior held him firm, standing his ground.

Eyes wild with panic, Wolff stared frantically at the warrior but then he realised that the man was not watching the approaching beast but had his gaze fixed on the sky. This time, Marcus could see what the warrior was looking at. Approaching rapidly, a small black dot resolved itself into a strange flying machine. The craft was essentially triangular with what seemed to be a rotor towards each point. The centre was occupied with a transparent bubble in which several